


Glory Hole

by thebasement_archivist



Category: The X-Files
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 1998-07-31
Updated: 1998-07-31
Packaged: 2018-11-20 06:58:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,609
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11330802
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thebasement_archivist/pseuds/thebasement_archivist
Summary: Note from alice ttlg, the archivist: this story was originally archived atThe Basement, which moved to the AO3 to ensure the stories are always available and so that authors may have complete control of their own works. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in June 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address onThe Basement's collection profile.





	Glory Hole

**Author's Note:**

> Note from alice ttlg, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Basement](http://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Basement), which moved to the AO3 to ensure the stories are always available and so that authors may have complete control of their own works. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in June 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [The Basement's collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/thebasement/profile).

 

Glory Hole By Jill

06 Apr 1998

As if you couldn't have guessed, this story is rated NC-17 for m/m sex. If you'd rather not read it, I have *no* idea why you're on this list at all;-) Anyway, you probably shouldn't read this if you haven't watched T/T or either of the Reduxes, because you a) won't understand, or b) you'll figure it out and be spoiled. Take your pick.   
Please archive this to the MKRA, ask my permission before posting elsewhere.   
As always, many thanks to Shael, Ratgirl, unChuck, and Raven for the beta reading, nitpicking, and puter access. *g* Comments eagerly (and somewhat shamelessly;-) solicited.  
And now, our feature presentation...

* * *

Glory Hole  
By Jill

He was crowded in the little room, packed like a sardine among its close confines. He'd spent the last half hour checking the equipment - the video cameras, monitors, and microphones. It was tedious work, and he'd had to bite back several sneezes when he disturbed the layer of dust coating almost every imaginable surface. Silence was of the utmost importance. Mulder would be back soon. 

The sound equipment picked up the barely audible *thunk* as a heavy object was unceremoniously dropped to the ground. An overstuffed file, perhaps, or even a shoe. The man stood immediately, craning his neck for a better view. 

***** ***** ***** ***** ***** ***** ***** ***** ***** *****

Mulder leaned against the door of his apartment, shifting the bag he held as he fumbled for his keys. Bumping the door open with his hip, he wound his way through the refuse littering his living room, depositing the sack of library books on a table as he went. The bag fell on the floor with a loud thump, its contents spilling out and adding to the mess already in progress. 

Rubbing his hand over his face, Mulder stared at the havoc enveloping his living room before moving off toward the kitchen. Leaning against the refrigerator door, he pulled back the tab on his can of beer, enjoying the snick and hiss of the released carbonation before bending his head back to drink.

When Mulder meandered back into the room, a last, hazy bar of sunlight glanced across his face, highlighting his nut brown hair as he picked up first one book, then discarded it for another. He actually took the time to flip through this second choice before throwing it back onto the littered floor next to its mate. With a yawn, Mulder raised his arms above his head, stretching, fingertips almost grazing the ceiling, absolutely unaware of the intruder standing in the corner watching him. A faint smile slipped across the intruder's lips, and he sighed in appreciation at the sight of Mulder -his height, the way his muscles rippled under the T-shirt he'd changed into a moment before. 

Over the next half hour, Mulder moved restlessly about the room, turning on his computer, then letting it sit so that the screensaver was activated. And all the while, the intruder stood silent in the corner, enjoying the show, waiting until the agent discovered his presence. 

*** 

Finally, Mulder nestled into the couch, picking up a magazine and flipping through it half-heartedly. "The Lone Gunman" -Mulder's favorite printed matter. His fingers turned the pages with practiced, almost affected nonchalance, but there was an air of restlessness to his movements. Any observer could tell that Mulder was only giving half of his concentration to the contents of the pages; he was preoccupied. 

The man, now crouched near the camera, shifted his weight again and snorted. It was the first sound he'd made since entering the room. 

***

Mulder started up from "The Lone Gunman" as if he too had heard the snort. Slowly, he turned his head toward the door. His grip around the magazine tightened, and he crumpled the paper in his hands, white-knuckled. He rose from the couch without taking his eyes off of the intruder who leaned petulantly against the doorway to his apartment, knocking on the frame as if he weren't already inside.

The other man couldn't help but marvel at the speed and grace with which Mulder had risen from his prone position on the couch within a heartbeat of spotting the intruder. Mulder took two long, leggy strides toward the leather-clad man standing in his doorway. 

"Drop your weapon! Now!" The words echoed through the apartment, and the man had no doubt that they'd been picked up loud and clear by the microphones. 

A short, curt laugh was the intruder's only answer. It was a beautiful laugh; bright, full, resonant, appreciative of the demand, yet meant to put the speaker in his place.

The laugh affected Mulder like a physical blow. Something worked in his face. "I missed you," the agent whispered, and there was a definite softness to the words.

Mulder moved to embrace the man whom he'd threatened mere moments ago, slipping through the room with the lithe movements of a panther. He was completely oblivious to the microphone picking up the hushed, reverent strains of conversation, too low to be understood, and yet nobody who would later listen to the tape would have any trouble imagining what was being said. The conversation ceased abruptly, to be replaced finally with the sounds of kissing. 

Mulder broke from the embrace first, leaning back to study the man he held in his arms. His hazel eyes sparkled wickedly at the intruder's sigh. 

"You get a bed yet?" the intruder asked in an exasperated, somewhat defeated tone of voice.

Mulder tried valiantly to suppress a grin, but it wasn't quite working. His teeth flashed brilliant white in the half-dusk of the room, provoking an answering grin in his companion. "What do you think?" he responded, pulling the intruder toward the couch. The intruder allowed himself to be pushed down onto the cushions, draping his legs over the armrest and staring up at Mulder with an air of disinterested amusement.

Mulder didn't buy it. The green eyes glowed too intensely, the small perfect mouth of the man before him twitched just a little too noticeably for him to be as bored as he was trying to appear. Mulder leaned over, breathing lightly on the man below him, his mouth just barely grazing the stubble covered chin, the warm hollow of the intruder's throat.

"Krycek," he breathed, and it was like a benediction.

Mulder moved onto the couch, straddling the man below, relishing his flushed cheeks, the way his chest jerked with each choked breath. The agent brushed his hands over Krycek's streamlined face, fingertips circling his exotic eyes, tracing along his high cheekbones, moving down to the tiny, perfect chin. He leaned over the man underneath and planted kisses along his jawline. Krycek raised his hand, smoothing it down the sculpted swimmer's muscles under Mulder's T-shirt. Mulder lifted himself back up onto his haunches, drawing his hands along the path Krycek's had taken a moment before, savoring the look on the other man's face as he caught his shirt up in his hands, pulling it off over his head, muscles rippling with his movements. Mulder inhaled the musk emanating from Krycek's body, the scent heady and strong.

He leaned down over Krycek, teasing at the other man's lips, sucking gently along his chin, his cheeks, then finally moving in to claim his mouth, forcing inside, tasting, conquering. Mulder could feel the heat radiating off of Krycek's body, and he pressed tightly to the other man, reveling in the warmth which spread out into his own chilled form. Krycek's hand began to smooth along his back, tracing the ridges of muscle along his spine, sending tendrils of fire racing down his vertebrae and into his groin.

Mulder felt Krycek shifting beneath him, pressing into his erection, gasping as he felt along the smooth skin of Mulder's back. Mulder moved in to nip and suck at the tender skin behind Krycek's ear, all the while tugging at his shirt. He pulled it out from the waist of Krycek's jeans, exposing the thin trail of curly golden hair tracing up his stomach to his naval. Touching a finger to the tip of his tongue, Mulder ran it along that path, stopping finally to press it lightly into the indentation, winning a long, low gasp from Krycek.

The man beneath him lifted up his hand, and Mulder gathered the soft material of his shirt up and over his lover's head, marveling at the milky texture of Krycek's skin. At long last, Krycek shook his head free of the garment to stare up at Mulder with enormous glowing eyes. Mulder smiled down at the man, running his hands along Krycek's sinewy arm to grip him tightly at the wrist, holding him prone under the agent.

Mulder watched, fascinated as Krycek's mouth worked without making any sound. He felt his lover's body tense, then relax as he gave himself up to Mulder's control. Mulder leaned in low, lapping at Krycek's hardened nipples, drawing the tender, sensitive flesh into his mouth, smiling as Krycek's body shuddered underneath him.

Finally, Mulder stood, pulling Krycek up off of the couch by the wrist so that he stood beside him on the floor. Mulder knelt down before Krycek and went to work at the fly of his jeans, opening it and sliding them down around his ankles. He leaned back on his heels to admire the man before him, now completely naked. Krycek stood passively, gazing down at him, arm held loosely at his side. Mulder's eyes ran along his tight, muscular calves, his thighs, up to his groin and the manhood there, full and hard. 

He shut his eyes, and so felt rather than saw Krycek's palm cup his head and bring it in toward his groin. Mulder parted his lips in anticipation, the heady scent of his lover assailing his nose and making his head spin. Then there was the velvet heat of Krycek's flesh on his skin and the bitter-sweat taste of precum in his mouth. He took one deep breath before enveloping the other man's length. He worked along Krycek's shaft, alternately sucking and smoothing with his tongue, bringing his lover to the edge before easing him back down. Krycek was moving his hips in time with Mulder's thrusts, and the head of Krycek's member was pressing against the back of Mulder's throat with increasing frequency. Mulder brought a hand up, placing it on Krycek's lean hip to steady himself as the man thrust into him. Releasing Krycek, he brought his tongue up from the base of the man's cock then swirled it around his head before taking him back into his mouth. He felt his lover shudder and then there was no time to think as he swallowed the cum pouring into his mouth. 

This time it was his lover who raised him to his feet before kneeling to remove his pants. Mulder trembled as he felt Krycek's hand smoothing down the sensitive skin of his thighs. Finally, he stood, giving Mulder the opportunity to steal another deep, searching kiss before moving to lay Krycek on the floor. He was halted by Krycek's hand on his hip, and the look in the other man's eyes made his heart skip wildly in his chest.

"No," Krycek whispered. "Let me..."

And then they were both frantically working to clear a space from the mess on the floor, sweeping back empty beer bottles and old newspaper clippings as they went. Mulder lay back on the floor, shifting until the sharp angles of his shoulder blades lay flat against the loose carpets which covered the floorboards. Krycek was bending over him a second later, trailing his hand up and down Mulder's chest, smiling as the agent squirmed below him. Mulder, in turn, ran his hands across Krycek's broad back, caressing the ample flesh and firm tissue as his legs were parted and drawn up over Krycek's hips. He relaxed, letting his mind slip away as his gaze took in the disordered room, the paintings on the wall, the cluttered desks, the old, beaten furniture illuminated by the streetlights outside. He noticed all of this, but he failed to notice the tiny circle of light shining on Krycek's back.

Mulder's breaths came in bursts faster, faster, and he was on the verge of fainting and then Krycek was inside of him, a solid physical presence that sliced through his body like a knife and brought him back to the reality of his apartment and the floor and the streetlight and his lover on top of him.

"Alex," he gasped, and Krycek thrust into him deep and sure, his hand like a vise on Mulder's shoulder. Mulder was pressing up into Krycek, moving in counter-rhythm to his thrusting, the pulse of their lovemaking pounding through his body. He could hear Krycek's voice, a steady stream of Russian obscenities pouring over his ears like honey before it was drowned out by a dull humming in the back of his head.

Reaching up, Mulder pulled Krycek down until they were lying chest to chest, his own erection crushed against Krycek's stomach. Mulder ran his hands through his lover's damp hair and down along his neck before smoothing them down Krycek's back to cup his buttocks. They increased the pace until their movements blended together, a fluid blur of limbs and bodies against the floor. 

Sweat trickled down from Krycek's neck to pool in the hollow of Mulder's throat, cooling his heated skin. Krycek was so beautiful above him, flushed like a god as he moved inside Mulder's body. Mulder squeezed his eyes shut as Krycek slid deeper into him. It was incredible; it was like being drunk. His awareness was focusing more and more on the hot presence inside of him, it was *becoming* him. He was melting around the invader moving inside of him, stretching, pressing...

The stream of whispered obscenities turned to endearments as the two men climaxed, gasping, clinging to each other for dear life. Mulder let out a strangled sob as his seed spilled out between their bodies. He lay, panting, feeling Krycek's cooling seed dripping out between his legs. He wrapped his arms around Krycek's heaving back and kissed his ear, soothing the man above him. He took one last look at his lover's body, amazed at how it seemed to glow in the faint illumination of the night and then he closed his eyes.

The yellow circle of light shining onto Krycek's back dimmed and disappeared, and the man got up and left. Below him, Krycek nestled deeper into Mulder's arms and fell asleep. 

***** ***** ***** ***** ***** ***** ***** ***** ***** *****

The gentleman smiled, accepting the proffered package with a curt nod of his head. He dismissed the courier with a gesture and a word of thanks in his cultured, mannerly accent. Opening the package, the gentleman withdrew the tape from the Styrofoam padding and inserted it into the VCR. He didn't particularly *enjoy* watching the two men have sex; had he been younger, he reflected wryly, it would have been a different story. The thrill lay completely in watching the son of his enemy sleep with another man. A smile broke out over the wrinkled planes of his face. Mulder was an observant man; it wouldn't be long before he discovered the small lens installed in the ceiling over his couch - a peephole, a gloryhole, if you will. And after that, it wouldn't be long before his enemy heard. *He* was a smart man too, and he would know who had put it there.

The gentleman settled back into his chair and prepared to watch the fireworks.

~FINIS~

Jill Made This  


http://www.geocities.com/Area51/Lair/9512


End file.
